


feelings

by krucxa



Series: expectations [2]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: ? I guess, ? I think, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - High School, Anxiety Disorder, Attempt at Humor, Character Study, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Panic Attacks, Slow Burn, and turn your head like 90 degrees, because i have anxiety and i said so, besides the two panic attacks there's also some slight angst but!, chan is a really anxious bby, chan is ace, chan is whipped, jeongin is aro, some hyunjin/seungmin if you squint, there's so much more fluff, would recommend reading gravel to tempo before this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 18:41:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14721506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krucxa/pseuds/krucxa
Summary: "Breathtaking," he murmured under his breath, not even aware that he said it out loud, only realizing it when Woojin replied with a quietit is.(Honestly, it's a little bit ironic how he assumed Chan was talking about the rain and not himself.)





	feelings

**Author's Note:**

> hello you have no idea how excited i am to finally post it because!! i think i wrote the first scene like? two months ago? maybe? and i've been trying to finally finish it since kjgshdjgs but it's out now!! phew  
> also the title is an another Hayley Kiyoko song cause i'm so gay for her and the lyrics are so beautiful?? and relatable lmao  
> anyway please enjoy this uwuwuwu

Chan doesn't remember much of his childhood. Or, to be more specific, he doesn't even remember it at all.

His first ever memory consists of waking up in a snowed over field. Fresh snowlakes fell slowly onto his face, but despite the cold weather, every muscle in his body burned. Everything was so hot, too hot, and every single attempt to move made him black out for a second. So instead he ended up staring up at the blue, blue sky, wondering.

He remembered the cold slowly seeping through his wet clothes, finally blowing down the fire in his chest - and he let out a sigh, reaching out and burying his fingers deeper into the snow.

His mind was blank, no matter how hard he tried to come up with any answers to why he was there - where was he, anyway? And who even was he in the first place?

He turned his head to the right, wincing at the sudden pain at the back of his mind, before glancing at his hand, and startling at the sight of sharp claws. Rapidly fire filled his chest, making him hiss at the burn in his throat. Calming down his racing heart, he reminded himself that there was no danger, that they were his own, until the feeling finally passed.

The morning was quiet, not a single person in sight, the wind rustling the leaves of the nearby trees every now and then. Chan squinted up at them, trying to come up with a way to get out of here - wherever he was.

He doesn't know how long he's spent just lying there, motionlessly, letting his thoughts run wild - but he does remember suddenly hearing a noise, and he looked up in the direction which it came from.

There was someone sprinting through the woods - their back to him, not even sparing him a glance, probably not even aware of his presence.

The person's hair was as white as the snow that Chan was buried in, but the clothes they wore were in contrast a mix of black and dark blue, making their skin look paler than it probably was.

He tried calling out to them, but the only sound that left his mouth was a soft whine, his breath puffing out in a barely visible, white cloud, and he cursed his lack of energy in his mind.

It seemed like the person felt someone's gaze on them, as they quickly glanced over their shoulder, but just seconds later they were back to running, maybe even faster than they did before. Where were they even going? Why were they in such a rush? And why couldn't they just take a longer look? Maybe then they'd notice him lying in the pile of snow, and then Chan could get the answers to his previous questions - but now they were gone, as quick as they appeared, leaving Chan to think about his misfortune.

"What are you doing here, young dragon?" A not really high, but not really low either - maybe the right word would be childish - voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

Startled, he glanced up and behind, just to see a kid staring right back at him. Chan guessed the kid was maybe a year or two younger than him, but not much more. His eyes were open wide in curiousity, his head bobbed slightly to the side, and Chan just blinked at him wordlessly.

"Are you lost?" asked the kid once again, earning himself a simple nod from the dragon. Chan watched as the kid's face lit up in a smile, and he hesitantly grinned back at him.

"Come on," murmured the younger, reaching out an outstretched hand to help the dragon up, "I know a good place for you."

And somehow, at the back of his mind, Chan knew that he could trust the younger. He didn't know why, but there was something peaceful about this kid as Chan followed him like a lost puppy, the boy's hand carefully wrapped around the dragon's own.

"I'm Changbin, by the way."

The boy held tighter when Chan's leg tangled in a bunch of vines, almost making him collapse. He glanced up, mulling the information over, and he found himself repeating the same question again and again - what was his own name?

No matter how much time he spent wondering about it before, he just couldn't remember anything, not even that one simple fact.

But as he opened his mouth to speak up for the first time since he met the younger boy, the words left his lips on their own, and it all suddenly felt right.

"My name's Chan."

☆

He glanced at the clock on top of his nightstand, its even ticking filling the otherwise silent room, the sound slowly driving him insane.

It was barely 5pm, his classes already finished that day and he sat in his empty room, wishing for something exciting to happen, but seems like the luck wasn't on his side today.

His gaze shifted to the bed on the other side of the room, unmade and untouched ever since his roommate left so much time ago after the Incident.

He sighed. It felt kind of lonely, living in the dorm all alone.

He remembered clearly the day he first step his foot in this building. It was the same day of his first memory, the same day he met Changbin, who later turned out to be a witch living nearby the school, who convienently found a way to sneak Chan in.

He remembered his first day of school, the first class he's ever taken - it was Sigils, mostly used by witches but also some of the creatures. He learned that day how to recognize which Sigils meant him well and which to avoid for his own good.

On that same lesson, a person suddenly ran into the class, smiling at the professor apologetically before taking a place in front of Chan.

And what he realized at the time, was that he'd always recognize the snow white hair of the stranger - the first ever person he's seen since waking up.

Naturally, he tried to come up to talk to him and start a conversation, but when in the middle of the class the stranger turned around, his eyes widening in curiousity at the sight of someone he didn't recognize, but then shooting Chan a cheerful smile - he only waved back at him awkwardly, and ran out of the classroom just when the bell rang.

The memories of their first meeting flustered him to no end, but it didn't take that long for them to become friends, even if Chan's heart raced in his chest every time the boy, Woojin, just as much as grinned at him.

But he also remembered the day of the Incident. The one that flipped his life upside down and made his roommate leave with a nervous whisper of _nothing personal, dude_ before sheepishly leaving the room, most of his things messily thrown into the bag he put on his shoulder barely seconds later.

His tail fidgeted restlessly on the edge of the bed, and his brows furrowed as he turned to lie on his side. He glared at the floor, ignoring the frantic feeling of time running away.

The empty room suddenly felt strange, unknown, like it wasn't his own.

But he knew it was for his own good.

So he didn't complain about it.

☆

The first person he remembers befriending in the school, right after Woojin of course, was a young nymph called Jeongin.

The kid was... exactly that, a kid.

While Chan wasn't even in his twenties yet, barely somewhere around eighteen years old, or so he guessed, Jeongin barged into his life with his smiley, fourteen year old self.

Wait, no, maybe _barged in_ wasn't the best expression to describe this.

It was more like, as if the boy sat next to him before gently shaking his hand, tying their lifes together with his kind eyes and a shy grin.

Needless to say, Chan was enamoured with the cute child, and without more thought decided to be his new parent.

He was a dragon, after all. Nobody could blame him for hoarding things, or people in that case - it was literally coded in his blood.

And Jeongin was a sweet boy, too pure for his own good.

Chan kind of didn't understand why such an amazing kid wanted to hang out with him, but you didn't see him complaining.

At the time, it was easy to tell the age difference between them, with Jeongin barely tall enough to reach his shoulders, his cheeks round and his baby face much softer compared to Chan's sharp scales and defined jaw. With time though, Jeongin grew so much he didn't even need to look up to maintain eye contact with Chan, while the older found himself not even an inch taller than he was when they met.

Honestly, it kind of felt like watching his own child growing up.

"Chan, are you listening?"

He startled, puffing out a bit of smoke, before glancing at Jeongin with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" he murmured, scratching at the back of his neck in an embarrassed way, "I got a little deep in thoughts, that's all."

The younger boy squinted at him from where he sat on the dorm's kitchen table, his legs just a little bit too short to touch the floor as he kicked them in the air slowly.

There was a single cookie lying next to him on an otherwise empty plate, and Chan's hand twitched to take it, but the nymph swatted it away before he could even grab it, Jeongin's eyebrows creasing the slightest bit.

Chan just scrunched his nose at him in reply.

"I was in the middle of telling you that Jisung ate the last piece of the cheesecake," mumbled the boy, jutting out his lower lip in a pout, "but it was supposed to be mine!"

The older shook his head with a light chuckle, because of course Jisung would do that. The elf liked to eat so much, it was a wonder how he even managed to stay as slim as he was. Especially cheesecake. It was almost like, the only weakness of his.

Right after Minho, of course.

"Were you just telling me then or complaining about it?" he teased, amused at the way Jeongin's cheeks gained a rosy tint to them, the boy huffing in betrayal.

"You're supposed to help me, not make fun of me!"

Chan earned himself a slap to the shoulder for the uncontrollable laughter that left his lips, but honestly, he couldn't really blame the younger. He probably deserved it when he thought about it.

"Okay, okay, I'll have a _talk_ with him later, better now?" he gave in, the younger nodding, a pleased smile on his lips.

"Will you use your scary dad voice though?"

The words made him chuckle, hiding the action behind his hand. His shoulders shaking, he ignored the questioning pat at his arm by a foot in a blue, fluffy sock.

"Not the scary dad voice!" came Felix's muffled voice from the other room, and Chan didn't even bother questioning how the fairy heard their conversation in the first place. He probably had his own, fairy way of doing stuff like that.

"Anyway, are you wearing my socks?" he changed the subject, pointing at the fuzzy socks Jeongin was wearing, the boy glancing away, embarrassed.

"They're comfortable," he mumbled, his voice barely audible, reminding him of a shy cat that at first wouldn't even let you know that it likes you, but later on shows you their softer side.

Jeongin was kind of like that, in a way.

Growing up made him more reserved than he was before, showing affection started to sound embarrassing, but after all, he was just a shy boy full of platonic love for all his friends.

"Keep them. They suit you."

The gentle smile he got in return was worth losing a pair of comfortable socks, after all.

☆

Being a dragon, yet having no wings was a pretty ironic situation.

No, before you ask, he wasn't a drake, he really was your usual dragon. Just, without wings. And not because he's never had them - from what he guessed, he must've had them for at least some time, before he lost them.

He didn't remember exactly why or when he lost them, but, let's be honest, what part of his life did he even remember?

But the scars on his back weren't the prettiest sight.

He sighed as he stared at the mirror in front of him, turning to the side so he could see the scars properly. They were long, and angry looking, scattered on his back in wide, painful stripes. Covered in black scales for what he guessed was protection, they contrasted with his tanned skin, making it look lighter than it actually was.

His brows furrowed, his clawed hand wandering up his shoulder, then reaching behind his back, carefully touching the place where his wings were supposed to be. Or more like, where they used to be.

The action only made him feel empty, and he winced, before turning away.

He wasn't in the best state to think about it all.

It's ironic, because no matter how sensitive the topic was to him, everyone kept unknowingly bringing it up.

It wasn't in a malicious way, nor was it in a suspicious nature. Mostly it was simply out of confusion. And as much as it left him feeling uncomfortable, he couldn't really blame anyone other than himself, and his lack of wings.

Because that's what being a dragon was usually all about - having wings, being able to fly and all that. It's a shame he didn't even have that.

He remembers clearly, on his second day in the school, when he had to introduce himself to the whole class, including his name and what type of creature he exactly was.

He didn't stutter while saying he was a dragon, nor did his voice waver, but people still weren't fully convinced.

"But you don't have wings?" murmured one person near the corner of the room, staring at him openly in confusion, "aren't you like, a wyvern, then?"

The words kicked the breath out of his lungs, and he looked away, locking his gaze onto the floor uncomfortably.

"Wrong term, asshole," replied a boy sitting in one of the desks in the front.

Chan whipped his head up, glancing at the other, his lips parting in surprise.

He hasn't seen the boy in the school before, and he was pretty sure if he did, he'd remember it. It wasn't that often to see an elf, but easy to tell when you actually did, seeming naturally composed, even if it wasn't really a trait of their personality. His hair was perfectly styled, not a single strand out of place, like he just left from a hair stylist, and his eyes seemed to shimmer in the light.

Also, the obvious part, were the long, pointed ears that at the moment, twitched in irritation.

"Yeah," chimed in another classmate, but Chan didn't bother to check who they were, still too busy staring at the elf, "wouldn't that be a drake?"

And that's all that was needed for Chan to come back to feeling uncomfortable.

"I'm not..." he trailed off, licking his lips nervously before trying again, "I'm a dragon. I just lost my wings."

He remembers how hard it was to choke out the words, how the entire room immediately fell silent, how nobody knew what to say for a few seconds before the teacher changed the subject.

He sat next to the elf that day.

"I'm Jisung," murmured the boy in the middle of the lesson, and that's all Chan needed to hear to decide that he's found another kid to hoard as his.

☆

"Your claws are getting long."

The dragon glanced up at Woojin questioningly, his fingers drumming absently at one of his scattered notebooks, a single textbook lying opened on his lap.

"They are?" he replied, glancing at his hands in confusion.

Sure, the black scales that covered his knuckles were the same, if not inching slowly at his fingers, but his claws indeed seemed to be a little longer than he remembers them to be.

He pet the notebook with a little more force, before looking closer.

There was a single hole left by the overcomplicated sentence about sirens. He had to google half of the words their teacher used that lesson. Seriously, who even used words like these anymore?

But what concerned him the most was the fact that maybe, just maybe, Woojin was right.

"Yeah, maybe you should cut them?"

His eyes widened as he scrambled back, almost falling out of his chair in his haste to widen the empty space between them.

"We're not getting rid of my claws!" he yelped, his voice a few notes higher than usual, which he would of course deny later.

"Not them whole, you dumbass," Woojin interrupted himself with a fond chuckle, before continuing, "just enough so that they're not as sharp, you know?"

Chan blinked at him owlishly, then slowly leaned closer to the older.

"You know how to do that?" he murmured, staring at him in awe. His cheeks felt so warm, he was sure the scales on his cheekbones must've been glowing, but he paid it no mind.

Woojin glanced at his scales, a weird glint in his eyes that Chan had no idea what it meant, but it was gone as quick as it appeared.

"Yeah, it's actually not that hard to do. The nurse has a special clipper for things like that."

Chan had no idea something like that even existed in the whole two years he's spent in this school; it was slightly concerning, he had to admit.

But hey, better late than never, right?

Which is why he found himself, barely an hour later, with his fingers held firmly by Woojin, the boy's gaze fixated on his claws, his eyebrows drawn together in concentration.

The sight made Chan feel kind of dizzy, and it took him so much willpower for his hands not to tremble, and he mentally gave himself a pat on the back. Minho would probably be proud of him for not acting like a fool for once.

Afterr making fun of him at first, of course. But that was to be expected.

"Could I paint your claws?" suddenly murmured Woojin, his voice soft, not bothering to look up at Chan as he spoke.

The words made him choke on his spit.

( _That's all for not acting like a fool._ )

"What?"

The older glanced at him quickly, before going back to working, clipping off the top of his claws carefully, his thumb rubbing Chan's knuckles in reassuring circles.

Ironic, how his actions unknowingly made Chan's heart flutter.

"Just, you know. Paint them. Like, blue or red, or something like that."

Chan's tail shifted anxiously as he thought about it. He didn't exactly feel the need to paint his claws, but just imagining the content smile on Woojin's lips if he agreed was enough to make his ears flush.

"Sure," he mumbled, Woojin cheering quietly, but Chan wasn't done yet, "if you make them black."

The older just kind of stared at him for a second, deadpan.

"They're already black, you emo lizard."

He sputtered, trying to come up with a good comeback, but he managed to only huff exasperadly in reply.

And Chan wasn't sure, but he thought he heard the older murmur _cute_ to himself, yet as he looked at Woojin he wasn't even looking at him, already back to taking care of his claws, a gentle smile on his face.

"I'm gonna paint them a warm orange, okay?" asked the boy after a few seconds, breaking the comfortable silence that fell between them.

"Why?" hummed the dragon, his eyes closed as he was about to drift off, Woojin's tender touch calming him down.

He didn't even notice when he let his head fall on top of Woojin's shoulder.

"The color reminds me of the way your scales glow whenever you blush," explained the older, glancing down at Chan, his white hair falling into his eyes in a soft wave, a few snowflakes materializing in his locks before melting off, hypnotizing, making Chan unable to look away, "it's cute."

Too dazed to respond in words, Chan just smiled at him shyly, hoping it was enough.

And the way that Woojin grinned back at him was an answer enough.

("Also, did you wrap your tail over my leg on purpose or is that an unconscious type of thing?"

It was actually the latter, but as Chan was about to pull his tail away, Woojin quickly assured him that it was okay.

So the dragon just cuddled closer, before falling asleep by Woojin's side.)

☆

Finding the time to hang out with Changbin wasn't an easy thing to do, at least at first.

Sure, as years passed, their whole friend group discovered the most convenient (read: the least dangerous) shortcuts, came up with the most convincing stories to cover up their disappearances and the best time to leave the school without anyone really noticing.

But before, when the only person who knew about Changbin was Chan, it was a difficult task, especially with the tons of work he had with the, honestly, a little bit too big amount of classes he foolishly took.

("You won't even be able to breathe in peace, dude," warned Jisung as he applied for the next five routes that seemed especially interesting. Chan just shrugged in reply.

Now he knows though, he should have listened. _The whole thing was a mistake._ )

At first, it was just them two.

At the time, Changbin was a little distant, a little closed off. Chan didn't try to push him into anything, in fear of making the young witch uncomfortable, instead chilling in silence in the boy's house.

The house was heavy with magic, and everything about it just screamed Changbin, the whole atmosphere of it seeming extremely personal, so Chan was glad that he at least let him even come inside. It was like his first sign of trust towards the dragon, and Chan was happy as long as the little steps were made.

The first person he told about Changbin, with the witch's former agreement of course, was Jisung.

To say the elf was intrigued would be an understatement.

To this day, Chan remembers how wide and full of wonder were his eyes as he stared at the house, his mouth open in awe at the slightest details, his ears twitching in excitement.

It was when Jisung threw an arm around Changbin, going on and on about how amazing it was despite not even greeting him properly first - and to Chan's surprise, the witch didn't even push him away. He did startle at the sudden skinship, yeah, but he seemingly accepted his fate, listening to Jisung ramble, his face devoid of emotions, even though his gaze was soft as he glanced at the elf curiously.

It was progress, so Chan was content with just watching the duo from where he (lazily) occupied Changbin's couch.

The three of them seemed to click, quickly forming some kind of a bond in that secret house, a secret friendship hidden from the unwanted attention.

It was nice.

Even more than that, to be honest.

And as Chan slowly but surely got closer and closer with a certain child of ice, Jisung was the one to come up with the idea of bringing Woojin with them to their little hideout.

And who was Chan if not a gay disaster, won over with just the mention of Woojin's name?

(Yeah, maybe he was little too weak for his own good.)

Seemingly, Jisung's decision was right, as the addition of Woojin only strengthened their bond.

It was as if he was the calming aspect they didn't know they needed, his familiar, cat like smile alone enough to stop Jisung and Changbin's bickering, his kind, cuddly presence helping to get Changbin to open up. With time, the sight of the witch snuggled in someone's arms (mainly Woojin) wasn't as rare as it was before, and the fact warmed up Chan's heart.

Of course, the place wasn't some kind of perfect heaven, no matter how much it felt like one.

Real fights between them still happened, one time even ending with Jisung and Changbin not being able to talk to each other for almost a week, but it was to be expected.

And as Chan's nineteen year old self threw himself on top of poor Jisung, the elf at the time lying on Changbin's bed when he got squashed into the blankets, he couldn't help but feel happy that they managed to make this friendship happen.

The elf groaned, the sound muffled by the pillows his face was smushed in, and he scrunched his nose in distaste.

"Get off you stupid dragon, you're sweaty," he grumbled, earning himself an amused chuckle from the said boy.

"You know you like it, Jisung," he replied, wiggling into a more comfortable position with a content sigh, "just admit it." "Is that a loaf and a half of cuddles, that I see?" chimed in Woojin as he came into the room, the words rushed a little from excitement, making the elf whine for help.

Changbin glanced at them from the corner of his eye, before going back to mumbling a newly learned spell, uninterested.

Jisung coughed. It sounded suspiciously alike _traitor_.

In the next second, another weight added itself on top of Chan, despite Jisung's strangled squeak of _no_ , Woojin's arms wrapping themselves around both of them in a comfortable hug.

It kinda made Chan wonder if Woojin was really a child of ice or actually a bear hybrid.

He sure hugged like one.

"Changbinnie, come join the fun!"

The witch spared Chan an unimpressed look, but the chanting quieted down and he turned to face them, like an intrigued kitten that wouldn't admit that you piqued its interest.

"It's so cozy here," sing songed the dragon, stretching slightly to get his point across, "baby binnie!"

It was all that was needed for Changbin to sigh, before marching up to them and diving into the pile of snuggled bodies.

Silence surrounded them for a second, the only audible sound their even breathing mixed with Woojin's peaceful humming.

Changbin shuffled slightly, stealing a not so sneaky glance before mumbling, "you're right. It is cozy."

Chan just wiggled his eyebrows at him, ignoring Jisung's grumpy whisper of _duh_.

"Well, obviously _you're_ cozy. You're not the one under all this weight," he grumbled, his voice barely audible.

It sounded pretty hilarious.

Or maybe Chan was just a little delusional from sleep deprivation.

"It's the weight of all of our love for you, Jisung," hummed Woojin, his eyes closed as he buried his face into Chan's shoulder. His hair tickled his chin. It left a funny feeling in his chest, "Appreciate it."

"If that's what your love feels like, I don't want it," whined the elf, his sad attempts at squirming away failing miserably.

Changbin gasped, reaching out to pinch Jisung's cheeks.

"You wound me!"

Despite his words though, he smiled widely at the younger boy.

It wasn't often to see Changbin smile, not to mention a full on sunshine grin, with crinkling eyes and dimples on display. But when he did, it seemed to light up the whole room, pulling in everyone's attention.

Somehow, it felt like a personal victory when they managed to make the witch openly show he was having fun.

"Actually..."

They all turned to stare at Changbin, the boy nibbling at his lip in thought, carwfully avoiding their gazes.

"I was wondering... who's the cute fairy you were with yesterday, in the garden?" he directed the question at Jisung, the elf bobbing his head to the side confusedly.

"You mean Felix?" he asked, before a mischevious glint appeared in his eyes, "how'd you even see it?"

Chan didn't even need to see the smirk on the wolf's face to know it was there.

"I was- just passing by," stuttered the witch.

The pink tint on his cheeks wasn't fooling anyone.

"By the school garden?"

The _you have your own_ was left unsaid, but the tone in Woojin's voice obviously pointed at it. His eyebrow lifted in amusement, the frost on his lashes stealing Chan's attention, but the dragon managed to drag his gaze away.

"What are you, the Spanish inquisition?" barked Changbin, his cheeks flushing even more, Woojin raising his arms in defeat.

But what intrigued Chan the most, was that even as time passed, the witch wouldn't stop pestering them about the said fairy.

(It wasn't a surprise when Changbin finally came up to Felix on his own.

Even if after it happened, Chan was a little bit pissed at him for acting carelessly. He did wish him luck, though.)

☆

Being asexual, was... an experience, to say the least.

Not to mention the obvious side, the few disgusted stares he got in the hallway after coming out, the way the school's small circle of closed minded assholes picked on him every now and then, it was all to be expected; and it didn't take him long to get used to it.

Besides, as he grew older, the bullying stopped with time, the respect of others a bigger force than some idiots' opinion.

It's just that, whenever he saw anyone mentioning any form of _sexual attraction_ , he's always took it as a joke, before he realized they were being serious.

It was kind of sad, how no one in the school seemed to relate to him, how no one seemed to get the empty feeling in his chest whenever he saw a happy couple or heard someone gush excidetly about their crush.

Because no one would like to be in a relationship with someone like him.

Because his feelings weren't enough. Apparently.

The whole thing wasn't the worst situation he could have been in, really, but it still wasn't the best either. And sometimes, just sometimes, it all made his thoughts wander to some dark places, but he didn't let it get to him. He just guessed that in that case, love simply wasn't for him - no matter how lonely he got at night, wishing for someone, _anyone_ to be there, next to him. To hug him, bring him closer, to kiss his cheeks, to laugh at his not so funny jokes ("puns," Minho corrected him every time he even mentioned it, "they're fucking puns.") and to just lie together in comfortable silence.

But it wasn't going to happen, so he put on a smile and decided to ignore it.

His first two, almost three years by now, in this weird high school - slash - college mix, he's spent thinking he was the only person that just couldn't blend in.

But one day, right after Felix and Changbin got together, Jeongin came up to him, whispering that he had something to tell him.

And who was Chan not to listen to his favorite child?

(It went like this: "So, you're asexual, right?" A nod. "I think I might be aromantic." "Cool." "Cool indeed.")

It was kind of nice, kind of comfortable when they lay together on Jeongin's bed, the nymph complaining about another girl that tried to ask him out that day, how awkward it was to explain once again that he wasn't interested in dating anyone and that bringing a few chocolates wasn't going to change his mind about that - without also making the girl cry in the process.

It's Valentine's Day, but both of them never really liked it much.

And not because they didn't get anything, actually quite the opposite - Jeongin got a whole box of gifts from his classmates of all genders, most of them sappy and asking him to be their boyfriend, while Chan got enough meaningful lookovers to make him feel uncomfortable.

(He ditched the rest of his classes after that.)

The one thing he wasn't expecting to see, though, was the one pink rose he found lying on his nightstand when he got back to his dorm.

It was, let's be honest, the only word Chan could describe it with was _beautiful_. It's gentle petals looked so full of life despite the fact that it probably has been lying in one place for the last few hours, a little bit of frost stuck on the edge of the nightstand.

He was too nervous to even touch it, in fear of somehow ruining the perfect image of the flower.

"Why does it always get worse on Valentine's Day?" whined Jeongin, punching one of his pillows softly.

The pillow took the beating without any struggling, in the end just lying pitifully in the corner of the bed, looking so sad that Chan couldn't help but relate.

"Because people don't get it, I guess," he murmured back, looking up at the ceiling as he spoke.

The ceiling didn't have any feelings, being an inanimate object, yet it seemed to mock them in its silence.

The room fell quiet, both of them too deep in their own thoughts to actually say anything, but it was okay - they didn't really need it anyway. Just the fact that they were together was enough to make them feel better.

Once again, Chan was reminded how comfortable it always felt with the young nymph, since they both got used to being a little pushed around, out of their comfort zone, and knowing that someone else felt the same was - just that. Kind of, nice, in its own way.

(There were a few yellow roses stacked on top of Jeongin's textbooks, tied loosely together with a white ribbon. Jeongin gave Chan _a look_ when the dragon handed them to him as he came in, one of Jeongin's eyebrows raising quizically.

"You don't have to be my significant other to enjoy some flowers," explained Chan, and that was all it took for the younger to take them with a content hum.)

"Hey, Jeongin?" he mumbled, the boy turning to face him silently, prompting him to continue.

"Could we cuddle for some time? I'm a little touch starved, to be honest."

It was true, that he hasn't been getting a lot of skinship lately. It's weird, how barely a year ago he could go on without hugging anyone for weeks, yet now all he wanted to do was to cuddle with his friends for hours.

And all he got as an answer was the younger shifting closer, before draping an arm over the dragon's chest.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're basically like a walking, living heater?" mumbled the boy, earning himself a surprised chuckle, "seriously, it's like you radiate warmth. Woojin would like it."

Chan stilled, his eyes widening slightly, before he glanced at the nymph, his fingers playing with the sleeve of his hoodie nervously.

"Why are you... bringing him into this?"

Jeongin just hummed, his eyes closed, not even bothering to make eye contact as he replied, "you two seem to get along really well. It's like you gravitate towards him every time you're in the same room," the dragon sputtered at the words, his tail wagging wildly without him noticing, and Jeongin quickly added, "but you know, it's pretty cute."

"...Thanks."

(He made a mental note to pay more attention to how he acts near Woojin from now on.)

☆

Iced coffee was a privilege he didn't get to have.

It sounded a little stupid, when you thought about it, but he couldn't really do anything about it. It was true.

There wasn't really a place in the school where you could buy one. Sure, you could buy cold drinks, just not the ones that Chan actually liked, or needed to be able to stay up and not crash from the sheer exhaustion.

The worst thing was that he couldn't even simply make himself a cup of iced coffee. And not because he didn't know how, it's just the fact how his body was always burning, which meant that before the coffee would be even done, it would already warm up in his hands.

And no matter how much Chan cursed out the stupid nature and stupid hot scales covering some of his skin, it didn't change anything.

That's how he found himself wrapped in a blanket, at four in the morning, writing down lyrics and his own fucked up emotions, three cups of hot, caramel coffee standing in perfect reach on his desk.

His hand was shaking as he scribbled down the words, the scales on the tips of his fingers glowing a little bit too bright, too much for it to be healthy, but he paid it no mind, instead trying to focus on his work. His foot kept on tapping anxiously, bouncing up and down despite him not being conscious of it, and his tail flickered behind him every now and then, a nervous habit he's never learned to control.

A two second break, a few sips of the scalding hot coffee, burning his throat as he squinted critically at the page before him.

It just wasn't good enough, the lyrics too simple, too bold, but his tired mind couldn't come up with anything else.

The coffee only made him unable to drift off, it didn't soothe down his sleepiness, in result only making him feel dizzy. His hand stubbornly just wouldn't stop shaking, the pen slipping from his grip and falling down to the floor, but he was too tired to do anything about it, burying his head in his hands with a frustrated groan.

Breathe in.

It's too hot.

Breathe out.

Too hot.

In.

It's suffocating.

Out?

He can't breathe.

In contrary to the air that just won't fill his lungs, panic floods over him. It's fast and loud, ringing in his ears, and he tips back in his chair until it loses balance, falling over, taking him with it.

He doesn't even register the jarring sound of the chair scraping against the floor, how there's no chance that it went unnoticed by anyone passing by the dorms - or anyone living next to him.

The only thing he knows is him gasping for air, his fingers gripping his hair tightly, pulling at it in desperation, hoping for it all to pass.

Until it does.

A sudden, soothing feeling brushing his skin, cold fingers pulling his hands away and grasping his face, strong but careful. It feels like a bucket of freezing water, like falling from a sledge into a pile of snow, like a single cone of ice cream on a hot, summer day, and he lets the feeling wash over him, bringing him back to his senses.

He closed his eyes, pushing his face into the cold, cold skin with a sigh, the tip of his tail still stuttering anxiously, despite his breaths evening out.

It took some time, but after some minutes filled with soothing whispers and delicate fingers brushing his cheeks, he finally fluttered his eyelids open, meeting Woojin's soft gaze with an uncertain smile.

The older boy carefully sweeped a lock of his hair out of his eyes, letting his hands travel down Chan's neck until they landed on his shoulder, the dragon shivering slightly but drowning in the cool touch.

"Are you okay?" asked Woojin, his voice barely louder than a whisper, Chan just nodding in reply.

The older glanced around the room, his eyes skipping over all the half empty cups of coffee, the steam leaving the lid in even puffs, the heap of papers stacked next to them and he shook his head lightly before locking his gaze back on Chan.

"You should take better care of yourself," he murmured gently despite the scolding words.

Once again, Chan stayed silent, looking away, a little embarrassed from the fact the older has seen his panic attack. But Woojin only pet his shoulder reassuringly, before leaning in and leaving a kiss on his forehead.

Woojin's lips were chilly, noted Chan, just like the rest of the boy. They left a little mist, a little bit of frost that quicjly melted but the feeling stayed the same, and as Woojin glanced at him this time, they exchanged a smile before the older stood up, grasping the cups of coffee and putting them away with a murmur of _gotta get rid of them later_.

"Don't drink anything too hot, it's clearly not good for you. And if you ever want an iced drink, you can always tell me, you know?" he said, gesturing vaguely at the coffee, before adding with a chuckle, "I can literally freeze them if I hold them long enough, so it's really not a bother."

And this time, as a warm tingling feeling filled his chest, it finally didn't drown him.

This time, it was more lukewarm than anything, and he couldn't help but smile at the realization that it reminded him of Woojin.

☆

"What the entire fuck, Chan."

The said dragon glanced up at the words with a sheepish smile that he just couldn't hold back.

Felix just squinted at him.

"What... are you doing in my room?" he questioned further, his eyes sweeping over the scene as he slowly processed what he was seeing, "on the floor? With both of your legs halfway out the window?"

Chan's tail wiggled nervously.

"Hey, don't give me that look. It's kinda hard getting through the window when you don't have wings," he defended himself, standing up carefully.

"What-"

"You know how annoying it is when you have to climb the entire building but then fall down a few floors?"

"Literally what the hell," mumbled the fairy, but decided to let it be. Sometimes, you just shouldn't question Chan's actions.

The dragon probably doesn't even know what he's doing, anyway.

"Why are you even here in the first place?" he asked, and despite the fact that the words may sound rude, Chan knew they weren't meant to be. The younger was just curious - the way his eyes widened the slightest bit as he stared up at him was enough to tell.

It's kind of sad, though, how those curious eyes were lined with heavy eyebags and paired with stiff, hunched up shoulders.

"Your insomnia is giving you a hard time again, right?" he replied, his voice close to a whisper, as if anything louder would startle the fairy.

It was obvious he hit the spot, especially by the way Felix quickly averted his gaze, his hand reaching up to his neck to scratch at it in a nervous habit, something that Chan noticed about the fairy early on.

Felix wasn't the one to keep things hidden from others. While he was loyal and could keep your secret well, he showed his emotions like an open book.

Chan admired how honest the younger was, even if because of it Felix couldn't lie to save his life.

"Yeah," the boy mumbled in the end, still not facing the other, instead locking his gaze on the floor like it would swallow him if he glared at it enough.

Which, okay. Mood. But Chan wasn't here to relate but to help, at least as much as he could.

So he grabbed the younger by the wrist, pulling him lightly onto the bed and immediately wrapping himself around the younger like an overgrown koala.

"What are you doing?" murmured Felix a few seconds later, a trace of confusion in his voice, even though he stayed in moving in the dragon's embrace. If anything, he only snuggled closer with a content sigh.

"Keeping you warm and cozy," explained Chan cheerfully, "now, sleep."

Soon enough, with some turning and some mumbled nonsense, the younger drifted off, leaving Chan to feel like a proud parent (that he actually kind of was, as he unofficially adopted all of the kids around).

☆

He's always had two, very varying opinions about rain.

Depending on whether he was exposed to it - in which he despised it with his entire heart - or inside any type of shelter, like a bus stop or his own room - then he couldn't help but admire it.

The sound of dripping water, of rain hitting a window, sometimes in a gentle tap against it, other times an angry pour, all of it had this kind of familiar, cozy vibe about it.

Even thunderstorms weren't as bad and scary when he was safely tucked in a blanket and watching it from behind the glass doors.

Sure, he still jumped whenever a thunder sounded nearby, but could anyone really blame him?

Usually, he'd always sit alone, letting his thoughts wander around without any actual destination.

But today was different.

Because today, he wasn't the only one buried comfortably in any covers, instead he was sharing it with a certain special person.

Yes, a special person. Because as much as Chan could be oblivious to his own feelings, at times, he wasn't going to deny them forever when he actually realizes what they meant.

It's kind of funny, actually, how long it took him in the first place.

He glanced at Woojin from the corner of his eye, letting his gaze slowly take in the sight of the older snuggled into a blanket, his expression calm and his eyes soft as he watched a few droplets slide down the glass of the window.

("You were right," whispered Woojin a few minutes after they shifted into a comfortable position in front of the glass doors in Chan's room, "it is really calming."

Chan just smiled in reply, even though his mind was already somewhere else, too focused on Woojin's leg pressed against his own, its touch firm but the slightest bit chilly, soothing the anxiety that filled his chest before.)

He couldn't really understand how it was, that he just couldn't tear his gaze away from Woojin.

Maybe Jeongin was right; it's as if the older was the only thing in the room he could pay attention to. Even the rain was unable to change that.

"Breathtaking," he murmured under his breath, not even aware that he said it out loud, only realizing it when Woojin replied with a quiet _it is_.

(Honestly, it's a little bit ironic how he assumed Chan was talking about the rain and not himself.)

And because he knew that the older wasn't going to push him away, wasn't going to silently inch back from him if he tried, he snuggled closer to Woojin, not wasting time in burying his head into the older's neck.

And just as he thought, Woojin didn't do any of that, just threw an arm around the dragon's chest and started humming, the melody strangely familiar, even though Chan wasn't sure where he's heard it.

Only two days later did the words _when you love someone_ pass through his mind.

And as he listened to the said song, all of his attention focused on the lyrics, he couldn't help but think of Woojin.

☆

Being a dragon, it was a given for him not to like water.

Sure, he liked the cold, but water not always necessarily was freezing - most of the time, it actually got near to boiling when he stepped into it, if he wasn't careful enough.

That's why he'd rather stay a few steps away from it, if possible.

"Seriously, are you sure you're a dragon and not a cat?"

He shot Seungmin a quick glare from his plastic seat, where he sat in safe distance from the pool, startling at any and all stray droplets that fell his way.

The chair wasn't the most comfortable thing, honestly, it felt as if it wanted to permanently imprint itself on his ass - with its rough edges and painfully flat seat. But Chan wasn't here to complain about stupid chairs, but to see his friend, and as annoying as it was, it was still better than sitting near the water.

"Meow," he mumbled, his voice monotone and face blank, dull of any emotions.

The siren laughed anyway.

"How's Hyunjin, by the way? I haven't seen him the last few days," he added, glancing around like the said werewolf would magically appear at just the mention of his name, and Seungmin's shoulders stiffened mid-wave.

"There's only a week left until the full moon, so he's already hiding in my room," he explained, his eyebrows furrowing slightly, "you know how much he hates the stares he gets whenever it happens."

It was true, how uncomfortable the boy looked whenever he sat on a lecture barely days before a full moon. His nails already sharper, morfing slowly into claws, his hair longer than usual, unnaturally tousled despite his best attempts at flattening it down, his ears slightly more pointed, vaguely reminding Chan of an elf.

Of course it would attract attention, there weren't that many werewolves in the school anyway, which only made it even more intriguing in the end.

Honestly, Chan has never seen another werewolf besides Hyunjin.

He kind of related to the other, seeing as both of them weren't the most _common_ creatures you'd see there.

But that didn't mean that the way everyone stared at the poor boy so openly, like a plate full of steak and mashed potatoes, while he was in the middle of his slow transformation was okay.

"There's still time, though?"

Chan watched confusedly as the siren nibbled at his lip, a nervous habit of sorts, before swimming closer to the edge of the pool and leaning closer to the dragon.

"He's getting paranoid," he murmurs, so quiet as if the empty room could've been listening, "if there's nothing to be anxious about, it's like his mind creates an absurd reason for him to panic. He's fine when he's just with us, but when there are people around that he doesn't know... he freezes."

Chan blinked, slowly taking in the information before he felt his grip on the chair tighten. He took a deep breath, slowly releasing it again.

"Is there any way we could help him?"

The siren took a few seconds to consider the question, but in the end shook his head lightly, "I don't think so. Besides being there for him, and reassuring him he's okay, I don't think there's any other way."

Silence followed the statement, filling the room, the only audible sound the occasional splash of water.

It all made Chan feel kind of empty.

Sure, he and Hyunjin didn't see each other very often, honestly, barely anyone was lucky enough to meet the werewolf frequently - one of those people was Seungmin - but they were still close. And hearing that the younger was going trough something similiar to him, the anxiety that always followed him wherever he went, it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Wasn't him battling with panics attacks enough?

Hyunjin shouldn't have to experience it as well, but he was, and it felt like life was playing an ugly trick on him.

Guess he couldn't keep all of his kids safe, after all.

"But you know, Changbin dissed your sense of style yesterday," said Seungmin, breaking the silence in hopes of lifting the mood.

Chan's attention instantly perked up.

"What?" he huffed, before adding as an after though, "and how do you even know him?"

"Yeah, he said something about that sweater of yours, calling it a mattress and told me something amongst the lines of," he cleared his throat, before imitating the said witch in a shitty, too high pitched voice, "see this shirt? It's made to show it off, unlike that disgrace he called a clothing," he snorted at Chan's whisper of _that asshole_ , then continued, "also, this pool is actually build in to the river outside. We met there one time and just, kept on talking I guess."

Chan pursed his lips in reply.

"Can you tell Changbin that he has no right to insult my style when he's basically emo with all that black clothes?"

"Will do."

☆

"Hey, Jisung?"

The said boy turned to face him, his eyes opened wide, waiting patiently for Chan to share what was on his mind.

"Yeah?" he replied, his voice curious but careful, for once not rushed like his bright lively personality.

"I think... no, I know, that I like Woojin."

Jisung's eyebrows lifted in amusement as he stared at the older with a small smile on his lips, "cool."

And whatever was Chan expecting, it wasn't the reaction he got.

He rolled to lie on his side, leaning in Jisung's direction slightly, his gaze searching for any surprise or really, anything else, on the elf's face, but found nothing.

"Just that?" he mumbled, confused, "just... cool?"

Jisung shrugged lightly, the blankets he buried himself in following his movement sloppily.

"Yeah, cool. I kinda expected it, to be honest."

The older groaned, falling back onto the pillows of Jisung's bed. As soft as they were, he paid them no mind this time.

"Am I that obvious?" he whined, hiding his face behind his arm, ignoring the amused huff from Felix who was sitting on the other side of their dorm, "also, oblivious?"

"Kind of," murmured Jisung, unable to hide a giggle before adding, "but you know, Felix was worse. He thought Changbin put a spell on him or some shit."

The fairy let out a betrayed squawk, throwing the nearest object at his best friend in a way of revenge.

To Jisung's demise, it turned out to be his sacred notebook, in which he wrote down all his stories, sometimes adding in a drawing or two if he felt especially creative that day.

("You know how I write those stories, right?" Jisung asked him one day, the notebook in his hands as he stared out the window. Chan hummed at him to go on.

"There's this one person on the internet, they call themself SpearB. I adore their writing so much, like they're just so good I always cry when I read something of theirs," he laughed sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck, "and guess what! Apparently, they read my stories. And they liked it! They like my writing! Even called me a writing royalty of some sorts. Can you believe this? They're so much better than me, though!"

The older just chuckled in reply, happy to see Jisung so excited. He noted in his mind to thank that person if he ever gets the chance to talk to them.)

The notebook hit the boy square in the head, barely missing his face and he couldn't hold back a yelp.

"Felix, you absolute coat hanger," murmured Chan, but the words were followed by laughter at the fairy's (jokingly) crest-fallen expression.

"Why would you say that to me, if you know how I feel?"

And the room filled with uncontrollable giggles once again.

☆

Despite being a similiar type of creature, in a way, Chan couldn't really understand Minho sometimes.

Not in a, _why would you even do that_ kind of way, of course, nor was he implying that Minho was some kind of enigma that nobody could solve - really, it was just that Minho had this... reputation, of sorts.

Again, it wasn't a bad one - the opposite, actually. Literally the whole school adored him.

There wasn't a day you would go without hearing a conversation about him, every single thing he did a new, _hot_ topic, that he wouldn't even have to see Minho to know how he was doing.

And Chan couldn't really understand how Minho could enjoy this kind of life.

Just the thought of everyone watching your every step made him shiver, a smudge of anxiety smearing at his heart as he recalled all of the excited whispers and hushed giggles at the back of classrooms - yeah, he definitely liked being more of an unnoticed shadow than a school heartthrob.

"I mean, doesn't it get tiring?" he asked as he watched Minho rummage through all of the gifts his _fans_ gave him that day.

The various sizes, different gift wrappers, all of them had this unique vibe about them, probably reflecting the personalities of the people who made them, and it all was so much, too much, his head hurt a little just from thinking about it.

Minho shrugged, pulling out a small, blue gift before opening it and whistling at the lots of strawberry flavored pocky inside.

"At times, yeah. But everyone is nice, and I like the attention they pay to my health and all that," he replied as he opened one of the boxes, munching on one pocky and shaking the box at Chan in a silent question, "they remind me to eat and rest when I forget about it. It's a shame they are too shy to actually talk to me."

Chan glanced at the food, hesitantly taking one pocky and nimbling at it as he thought about Minho's answer.

"That's... actually really kind of them," he mused, sneaking a look at the sleeping Woojin on his own side of the duo's dorm, "even though if I were in your shoes, I'd never get used to... all of this."

The words earned him a chuckle from the younger, and it didn't take him long to join in.

On his bed, Woojin turned in his sleep, a quiet hum escaping his lips as his light locks created a halo around his head, and at the moment, Chan couldn't think of anyone that reminded him more of an angel than Woojin.

He wished he could run his fingers through the boy's soft looking hair, plant a couple of gentle kisses on his forehead and frostbitten cheeks, brush away the snowflakes stuck on his eyebrows, but then he realized - that he actually could.

Because Woojin would never push him away, because Woojin would never make him feel bad on purpose, because Woojin cared for him as much as he cared for the older. Because it was Woojin, and Woojin was like a constant in his life, always there for him when he needed someone the most, always there to listen and to soothe down his endless anxiety, not expecting anything in return; though it only motivated Chan even more to take care of the other as well.

"You're really whipped for him."

Minho's voice pulled him out of his thoughts, his hand stilling mid-air as he reached to - what, exactly? Graze Woojin's cheeks? Brush away the fringe that fell into his eyes? Any other typical sappy action?

He may have been reading too many romantic books lately.

"Maybe so," he mumbled, pulling back his hand shyly before once again reaching out, this time succeeding in gently ruffling Woojin's hair, "it's not like you can act all smug here, don't think I haven't noticed you being all starry eyed whenever Jisung's around."

"That's-" the phoenix drifted off, glancing at the pocky in his hand cautiously, "we're. I don't even know, honestly. He's cute, but we don't really talk much, and I don't know how to change that."

It was another thing Chan couldn't understand in Minho. The guy was basically the whole school's dream boy, high school type of crush, whatever you name it - and yet, he was too shy to talk to the one person that people usually don't notice that much, the one that easily blends in and doesn't go out of his way to get attention.

It sounded like something from an old romance movie, when he thought about it more, but honestly, their whole school was full of weird stories never told, so another one added didn't make much of a difference.

And instead of answering, he just pet the younger's shoulder reashurringly, Minho smiling at him softly before gushing about the elf for the next hour.

☆

He's not even sure exactly how it happened.

It was the middle of the night when he woke up from a nightmare about what happened with his roommate now almost three years ago. His entire body was shaking, his hair sticking to his forehead from the sweat, and his stupid heart just wouldn't stop racing as he tried to steady his breathing.

So much time has passed by now that he was so sure he was already past this - but apparently, the memories still decided to haunt him, and as he whipped his head to stare at the empty bed on the other side of the room, his panic only rose, the room suddenly too small, too suffocating and he didn't think much before throwing the blankets the way and running out of the room.

He stumbled, forgetting about the few stray books lying on the floor, but he paid them no mind, too busy looking for a safe space, for something familiar, for home - and he didn't even realize that he was in front of Woojin's dorm before he found himself knocking on the wooden door.

And while it didn't take that long for them to open and for Woojin to stick his head out, it sure felt like eternity as he fidgeted, jumping at any and all unexpected sounds.

Only then did he think about how pathetic he must have looked, standing in front of the door at ass o'clock, not even changed from his pyjamas, his hair a mess and his eyes wide in irrational fear, but before he could try to flee the scene, he saw the worried look on Woojin's face that made him stop in his tracks.

Wordlessly, the older caught his wrist, pulling him in gently and wrapping his arm over his shoulders on their way inside.

"Do you want something to drink?" whispered the boy, his voice soft and a little bit raspy from sleep, and Chan tried to focus on it in hopes of calming down.

He shook his head lightly, and that was all Woojin needed before leading the dragon to the bedroom.

The first thing Chan noticed was that Minho's bed was empty, the phoenix probably off to - what exactly? Something that popular people do, probably. Chan had no idea what possibly could it be, but he had no motivation to find out at the moment.

Woojin guided him to lay on the bed, before quickly glancing around, probably looking for something to help Chan calm down, but before he could move even a little bit away, the dragon grasped his shirt tightly, too panicked to stay alone again.

"Please stay," he whined, his heart still beating wildly in his chest, but slowing down the slightest bit at the reassuring smile the older gave him.

The next few minutes were like a blur. He wasn't entirely sure what happened, he just remembered the soothing whispers, the chilly hands brushing his scalding hot cheeks and shoulders, the gentle glimmer in Woojin's eyes as he lied next to him, and it took some time, but in the end he finally calmed down enough to think somewhat rationally.

It's comforting, the way Woojin made sure he was okay with everything he did, asking if he wanted anything specific to help him instead of immediately doing what he supposed would be the best thing to do - because people not always were right about that.

"Thank you," he mumbled into Woojin's shirt, shuffling away a little to be able to look into the older's eyes as they spoke, but Woojin just blinked at him owlishly.

"You don't have to," murmured the boy sleepily, a shadow of a smile on his lips, "thank me, I mean. I couldn't just leave you like that."

And for some reason, the words made his heart skip a beat, and he mirrored the shy smile in reply.

"I really do, though. Seriously," he looked away, his gaze skipping over the room, the neatly arranged books on the shelf, the wide window and the moonlight that fell through it, kissing Woojin's soft locks and frostbitten skin on their way down, "but... the whole thing is, I thought I was already over that incident. I thought... that I've finally let this go. But I just had a nightmare about it, the entire room in flames again, his terrified screams and I couldn't do anything about it," he took a shaky breath, blinking away the tears that threatened to fill his vision, "I could only watch it happen, no matter how much I screamed at myself to move and it's so... scary."

"It's not your fault."

Woojin's voice was steady, his arms squeezing Chan's shoulders gently, bringing him a little closer, probably not even aware of it.

"I know, it's just..." he trailed off, unsure what to say, but Woojin only brushed his hair away, running his fingers through the black locks absently.

"It's okay," he reassured, Chan just nodding in reply, his throat suddenly too tight and he didn't trust his voice at this point.

Instead, he just buried his head in the older's neck, clinging to Woojin like the koala that all his friends jokingly called him, the other rubbing soothing circles into his back, as firmly as a sleepy, emotional barely adult could.

And again, he's not sure how exactly it happened, but as he drifted off, right before falling asleep he mumbled the one thing he's wanted to tell the older for ages.

And he didn't have to see Woojin's face to know how his eyes crinkled up in a smile, not even bothering to hide the happiness from his voice as he spoke, "I love you too."

☆

There are times when he remembers that after all, not everything gets to end happily. That some things just never turn out okay, that there are situations without any good results, that some things cannot be changed.

People can't always be happy, and as much there are upsides, downsides will follow.

The one thing he knows, though, is that he can trust Woojin to stand by his side whenever his own mind decides to play its tricks on him, to let Chan lean on him for support, and to somehow ease the burden just the slightest bit.

And even if Woojin can't magically get rid of all his problems, his presence is already more than Chan could've ever ask from him.

And that's enough.

**Author's Note:**

> okay but feelings wasn't actually the only song i got inspiration from for this, but day6's i smile and when you love someone also had a big part in this kgjhgjhlksk idk man i love day6 with my whole heart  
> also y'know. if anyone would want to leave some feedback,, it'd be really nice,, and i'd be happy to see it,,,, _wink_  
>  oh also btw i made some [sketches](https://straymemes.tumblr.com/post/174112565907/woochan-sketches-dragon-child-of-ice-from-this) for this


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